parisadavani·:
closed starter for @quinneths· when: tuesday, october 25th; early in the night where: on the bleachers by the school pool
“Here, try this,” Parisa encouraged, passing a cup to Quinn as she sat down next to the blonde. “Sprite, lemonade, and grenadine. I wish these events catered more to us,” she mentioned with a pout, at least glad that Quinn was also interested in mocktails. “You look stunning, by the way. Purple is an excellent choice.” The color of royalty, a subtlety that may have gotten to Greer had she been at her own birthday party. “It’s certainly a choice to have a party on a school night, but I guess Greer would’ve had it no other way. Are you planning on taking a dip in the pool?”
she took the drink but hesitated putting it to her lips, ever wary of accidental spiking, until parisa confirmed its ingredients. the pair often gravitated towards each other at events like this. they both abstained from alcohol and neither asked those irritating questions on the matter of each other. the scent of pomegranate and lemons flirted with quinn’s nose and she took a sip. she thought sprite and lemonade were essentially the same but it tasted pleasant enough.
the blonde got more comfortable against the velvet two seater, not once questioning the mystery of how it ended up in the natatorium. “the birthday girl isn’t here to persuade me,” quinn answered, a little spite in her tone. “so that would be a no. please don’t tell me you are… god knows if anyone’s showered.”
——— ⁂ This year at Ogden, Quinn had bought herself a townhouse in the local area as a birthday present. Living in dorms freshman year without somewhere to escape to had driven her half mad. A librarian had given her the idea; one of the many mornings she showed up groggy and incoherent from lack of sleep. You're rich rich. Why not buy somewhere? It hit her like a train. Veering on the sensible side, she still kept paying her dorm [ Waverly #206 ] for when she needed to be on campus. Tonight was one of those nights, with a biochem midterm stupid early in the morning. She didn't know what had triggered such a petty tactic... other than the fact she merely existed. At exactly 10pm her dorm mate had decided it was the perfect time for flute practice. He just continued, getting louder and louder. Eventually, after leaving the dorm for a walk and coming back, she had enough and jumped up from her bed — grabbing the flute from his two hands and smacking it against the wall. The head joint fell to the floor with a clang. It was probably dented. He just laughed and said Bianca was right. The phrase ringing through her head carried her slippered feet all the way to Linden. Quinn was FURIOUS. The sophomore didn't know if this was a Greek rivalry thing or a Pre-Med thing but whatever it was, tonight was not the night. She wrapped her knuckles furiously against Bianca's door. After she answered, Quinn dropped the rest of the flute at her feet.
❝ I need you to stop giving your minions ideas ! ❞
open / closed starter location: late night at linden housing / bianca’s dorm
the loud knocking on her door nearly made her jump out of her skin. she scrunched her eyebrows together as she hurried to finish moisturizing her face before leaving the bathroom. bianca didn’t want whoever to get the chance to pound on her door again. besides, it was late and she wasn’t expecting anyone, or was she? if she did, she forgot about their plans. bianca opened the door and plastered a smile on her face before speaking, confusion still written on her face. ❝it’s nearly midnight and you knocking on the door like you’re the police,❞ she shook her head. the pace her heart was beating would’ve given an old man a heart attack. ❝you needed something?❞
Florence Pugh (Tiffany & Co, 2022)
——— ⁂ There he was, milling around, right in her way. It seemed like everywhere Quinn looked nowadays, Nate had nestled himself in some corner or other. His tall figure haunted her peripheral vision. After years of on-again-off-again hatefucking she had made a point of avoiding him after her freshman year. She summered in the city instead of The Hamptons, hoping to stave off the dirty magnetism they'd let fester between them. She had guessed, at some point, that being on the same campus would mean she couldn't avoid him forever. She hadn't guessed it would be over some damn popcorn. Quinn reached up and tapped on his shoulder.
❝ Are you getting something from the stand or are you just here to be a nuisance ? ❞
Mistress America (2015) directed by Noah Baumbach